The longest night of my life

It had been the longest and most bitter night of my life, that of September 24, 1968, spent in San Giovanni Rotondo beside the body of Padre Pio of Pietrelcina. Only then did I realize how deeply he had entered into the core of my life, and I felt, to the depths of my soul, the disorientation of one left fatherless—of that father.

At the end of the vigil, I found myself beside an elderly religious man, with the gentlest and clearest gaze, frail and almost fragile in the dark habit of the Minim Friars. Utterly humble in all his ways, he managed to conceal a powerful personality behind a front of courteous and gracious nobility, beyond which it was hard to see. Only the rare flash of his magnificent blue eyes revealed, in glimpses, the fierce strength of an eagle beneath the humble purity of a dove.

When he told me his name, I remembered having heard of him, and I recalled the judgment Padre Pio of Pietrelcina had once given:
“Padre Pio Dellepiane? No, Padre Pio… of the heights!”

Only later did I understand that on that night, Padre Pio of Pietrelcina had given me his final gift—the greatest of all—not leaving me orphaned, but entrusting my soul to another Padre Pio, another version of himself.

When Padre Pio Dellepiane was transferred from Rimini to Rome as superior of the convent of Madonna della Luce, I had the opportunity to meet with him often. He wanted me to visit him every time I went to Rome, and it was hard to resist his thoughtful hospitality.

In almost every meeting—recalling the little shepherds of Fatima and what the Virgin had asked of them—he would return to speak of the need to have children pray and to form Prayer Nests.

He wanted me to accompany him to Fatima in July 1972 to take part in a week of spirituality organized by some of Padre Pio of Pietrelcina’s spiritual children. During the trip, he took the microphone—though he was usually very reserved—to urge everyone to have children pray.

He later invited me to join a pilgrimage with his prayer group from Madonna della Luce to Collevalenza, to the shrine of Merciful Jesus founded by Mother Speranza. On the bus, he took the microphone again and, once more, spoke of the need to create Prayer Nests. But this time, he added a new note:
“Priests,” he said, “must get children to pray.”
I was the only priest present… and I half-jokingly asked if he meant me specifically, if he wanted me to dedicate myself to this apostolate among children.
He answered with a serious and resolute tone, full of sorrow:
“It’s urgent and necessary… it’s already too late.”

In those few words—he never wasted any—I sensed all the anxiety and discouragement of a prophet unheard, a saint misunderstood.

Back in Bagnella di Omegna (NO), I began to reconsider all my biblical knowledge in this new light. I studied the latest Marian apparitions, where the protagonists are always children; I began approaching students in some elementary schools and telling them about the shepherd children of Fatima.

The enthusiasm with which the fourth-grade children of Sister Stefania in Borgomanero (NO) embraced the message of Fatima encouraged me to repeat the experience wherever I had the opportunity: in Taranto, L’Aquila, Sulmona, Mafalda, Ischia, Torre de’ Passeri, Manduria—everywhere the children responded with a generous “yes” to the invitation of the Heavenly Mother, consecrating themselves to her and committing to pray the Rosary.

The mimeographed sheets were no longer sufficient to connect the children of the Nests; there arose the need and idea to publish a small printed newsletter.

I spoke to Padre Pio—already bedridden at his sister’s home—about it. He was thrilled and personally chose the format, number of pages, and topics to include. When I brought him the first drafts to read, we noticed one page remained blank. After a moment of reflection, he said:
“You will put there the consecration of families to the Hearts of Jesus and Mary.”
His sister Emilia gave me printed copies of the formula he used, and we printed it on the inside back cover. At Padre Pio’s request, we reprinted it in every issue. On that occasion, he also gave his blessing for the children of the Prayer Nests.

When, with the help of Don Vittorio Narducci, Giuseppe, Mariella, the youth of Sulmona, and several teachers, we began approaching children on a larger scale, we would always visit him first to present our challenges and seek guidance. His answer was always the same:
“Our Lady… Our Lady will take care of it…”
And, smiling at our lack of faith, he would add:
“Our Lady will go before you, Our Lady will accompany you, Our Lady will follow you.”

We all honestly affirm that everything we have done and continue to do is not our own work; at times, it felt as though we were walking a predetermined path—as if on rails.

Our Lady… always, only, everywhere Our Lady.
When, in the final moments of his life, I asked him to leave us a parting thought as his spiritual testament, he said only this word:
“Our Lady…”
The same legacy given by the dying Jesus, the same as that of Padre Pio of Pietrelcina.

At the last Mass we concelebrated together on the morning of the Immaculate Conception—four days before his death—at the offertory I promised him that I would continue doing all I could to bring the message of Our Lady to all the children of the world. But I added a condition: that he, within me, would guide the Armata Bianca of Our Lady. His eyes lit up, and with a deeply moved smile, he nodded repeatedly. He smiled again when I told him that Don Vittorio was in Giulianova (TE) that very day for the consecration of fifty children to the Immaculate Heart of Mary, and that we placed their “yes” in his hands so that he might present it to the Mother at the moment of his entrance into Heaven.

And “all the children of the Prayer Nests” were there, around him, in that cushion of white roses and pure lilies that Christian, a five-year-old child, had brought from Pescara—an expression of their innocence and their love.

That last night of vigil was so sweet, with Christian asleep beside his great friend, in his mother’s arms. In Chris, I saw all the children of the world who would accept Padre Pio’s loving call:
“Our Lady… love Our Lady… give yourselves to Our Lady…”

I wrote this to bear witness to the truth: all the good that Our Lady has done and will do through the Prayer Nests is thanks to Padre Pio Dellepiane, the fruit of his life consumed for the triumph of love of the Hearts of Jesus and Mary.

To him, I ask the grace to end my life with the same testimony of love and absolute fidelity to God:
“EVERYTHING…”—his final words, almost a cry from a throat paralyzed by illness after three hours of agony—“FOR… THE GLORY… OF OUR LORD… JESUS CHRIST!”

From “I Nidi di preghiera” no. 6 – 1977

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PPadre Pio Dellepiane died in Rome on December 12, 1976, and is now buried in the Roman Basilica of Sant’Andrea delle Fratte, where the Virgin of the Miracle appeared to the Jew Ratisbonne. The cause for his beatification was opened in 1990, and the diocesan phase concluded in 1998. At the canonical exhumation in 2000, his body was found to be incorrupt, and in December 2019, he was proclaimed Venerable.